


Soaked to His Soul

by balloonwhisk



Category: The Bright Sessions (Podcast)
Genre: 48 - Mark, Hand Jobs, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Orgasm Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 12:55:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14189412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/balloonwhisk/pseuds/balloonwhisk
Summary: “Just tell me what to do, Mark. Please. Look, I’m asking. You- you get to decide.”Mark and Damien's confrontation end a bit differently.





	Soaked to His Soul

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting this in the hopes that it will stop haunting me at work. I've never written smut before, I'm sure you'll be able to tell lmao. I'm not really sure about the rating, I thought better safe than sorry but let me know if I need to change it and/or add more tags/warnings.
> 
> The title is from [Wake Up Alone](https://youtu.be/sZo8gUCt2hM) by Amy Winehouse.
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

“Just tell me what to do, Mark. Please. Look, I’m asking. You- you get to decide.”

That made Mark pause. “You’ll do what I want?”

“Yes.”

Mark took a few steps towards Damien, who stumbled backwards and hit the kitchen counter. Mark narrowed his eyes. “Anything?”

“Yes.”

Mark stepped fully into Damien’s space and looked him over for a moment, taking in his disheveled hair, his soft half-open mouth, his ratty hoodie, his bare pale legs sticking out of his boxers and there- Mark gently brushed his knuckles against Damien’s half-hard cock through his boxers. He raised his head to look Damien in the eyes, finding them wet and dark and unreadable. “What if this is what I want?”

Damien took in a shuddering breath and nodded jerkily. “Anything.”

Mark grinned, his expression turning mischievous and Damien felt his heart squeeze in his chest. Mark placed his hands on the counter on either side of Damien and hummed thoughtfully.

Damien stood up straighter to put some distance between Mark and himself but his nose bumped into the soft underside of Mark’s chin and he abruptly stopped. There, under the lavender scent of Dr. B’s favorite fabric softener was the familiar smell of Mark, seared into his brain after months of living in each other’s pockets. Damien rubbed his nose down the column of Mark’s neck to the juncture of his shoulder. He buried his face there and sagged against Mark. Mark shuddered faintly and his hands moved to the waistband of Damien’s boxers. He slipped two fingers of his right hand under the elastic and moved them across Damien’s belly, stopping at the hair on his navel and slid his hand inside. He loosely gripped Damien’s cock and Damien gasped, lifting his head from Mark’s shoulder to first look down to where his hand disappeared inside his boxers and then up at Mark’s face. It had been a really long time since someone else touched him, and he was so overwhelmed that he had to close his eyes and will himself to calm down.

He opened his eyes when Mark started moving his hand, feather-light touches that were nowhere near what Damien needed and found that Mark was studying his face intently. He felt himself grow harder under the scrutiny and let out a low moan when Mark rubbed the head of his cock, coating his palm with precum.

Mark’s gaze was relentless. “You're so wet. You’ve been wanting this for a long time, huh?”

Damien couldn’t take it anymore and fisted Mark’s jacket to propel himself up and press his lips against Mark’s. Mark froze, then his left hand, which had been idly rubbing soothing circles on Damien’s waist came up to grip him by the neck. Mark pushed Damien away, his thumb digging uncomfortably against Damien’s throat, making it hard to breathe.

“No.” Mark’s voice was rough. “Stay there, understood?”

Damien struggled, eyes wide. “Yeah” he choked out. Mark’s thumb eased off and Damien gasped, his hands tightening around Mark’s jacket.

Mark pushed down Damien’s boxers and began jerking him off in earnest. Starting off slow, and methodically getting faster and watching Damien’s face the entire time, cataloging the way he reacted to a certain twist of the wrist, squeezing the head of Damien’s cock to see his bitten lips fall open. He seemed to most enjoy making Damien whine, high-pitched and undignified, and whenever Damien turned his head away, Mark would push his thumb into the meat of Damien’s neck until he was forced to look Mark in the eyes.

“Are you close?” Mark leaned in to whisper.

“Ye-yeah. Please, Mark.” Damien’s voice cracked. “ _Please_.” He could feel a slight tremor in his legs and he was surrounded on all sides by Mark, enveloped by his smell and his warmth. He ducked his head under Mark’s chin, flattened his palms against his chest and and panted hotly against his collarbone. He could feel his orgasm building, white edging around his vision when suddenly the hands on him disappeared and Mark took a step back, leaving Damien cold.

“There is nothing you can give me that I want.” He wiped his right hand on Damien’s hoodie and stepped away. “Goodbye, Damien.” And then he was out the door and gone.

Damien blinked in confusion for a moment, looked at the door, down at the shiny handprint on his hoodie and finally his cock, which was still hard as if it had no idea what just happened.

“What the fuck?” he whispered to the empty apartment. He could feel wetness on his cheeks, which made him furious. “What the actual fuck!?”

He wiped his face with his arm before taking himself in hand and jerking off at a punishing pace, just wanting it to be over. He came quietly, the orgasm knocking something loose and revealing a cavern inside him.

He wiped his hand on his hoodie, making a matching hand-print, and pulled on his boxers. He slid down the counter, sat on the floor with his head between his knees and let out a muffled scream.


End file.
